33. Wallace #2
Oh, Wallace was enjoying watching everyone tease the untouchable Ben.
“Yes, darling,” Oliver agreed, not seeming the least put out.
“Then I wanted to share the good news that I’ve told Ben that I’m marrying him.
He responded by saying, ‘don’t push your luck, buddy,’ which by my calculations suggests that he’ll capitulate to an engagement within the next two years. I’m thinking of a June wedding.”
Ben’s face was a fascinating shade of pink. He looked around the room, like he was trying to find exits.
But there was an irrepressible smile lurking on his lips.
Wallace knew exactly how that felt.
“Congratulations!” Evan exclaimed.
“But… he didn’t say yes,” Quincy fretted. “Why didn’t you say yes, Ben?”
Evan squeezed Quincy’s waist. “It’s okay, babe. Ben is a stubborn ass, but Oliver knows how to handle him. Oliver will send us wedding invitations, and we’ll be their best queers,” he added, mischievously.
“What’s a best queer?” Quincy asked, while Ben took slow steps back from the group.
“Look up best man at a wedding,” Oliver prompted. “Now make it queer.”
“Ohhhhh…” Quincy marveled. “Yes, Ben. We will be your best queers!”
“Why am I friends with you people?” Ben threatened before striding toward the kitchen.
But Wallace caught his wide grin as he turned away.
“Best queers can wear any color except white, is that right?” Quincy asked, still naively following the conversational trail. “Or, wait. Do you have wedding colors picked out?”
Ben returned from the kitchen, looking murderous. “No wedding. No wedding colors. I did not agree to get married.” He was carrying a heavy baking dish, steam rising from the top.
“I was thinking crimson and gold,” Oliver continued, like he hadn’t heard. “Ben likes gold because it reminds him of my voice,” he added at a whisper, like he was sharing a secret.
“Ooh!” Quincy squealed. “I want to make the outfits.”
“No outfits!” Ben thundered. But he didn’t seem displeased at all. “Everybody sit down and eat. Quincy made… whatever this is.” He thumped the dish down on the table, while a bot scurried after him to lift it up again and place a trivet underneath.
Evan grinned.
Oliver snorted.
“It’s a zucchini gratin casserole,” Quincy explained earnestly, “to go with the crab cakes. I sent Oliver the recipes, and I brought chowder!” He darted away, to return with a covered pot. “Oh, and there’s a dill sauce and sweet corn! It’s called New England harvest food.”
Ben just looked relieved at the change of subject. But Wallace could read him better now. Ben wasn’t truly angry, even if he was a bit uncomfortable, and no one was saying anything that would hurt him.
This was what good teasing felt like, just like with Volt, Angel, and Magnolia.
Wallace sent another prayer out to the universe that Volt would be okay soon. His Daddy would probably love to be here right now.
And then Wallace could show how he was part of a couple, too. That he was kind of like all of these fun, cool people who he could hopefully impress enough that they would like him. Or at least not screw things up too much.
Bots were already bringing everything to the table, and it smelled amazing, so he hesitantly joined the others.
Ben brought out a case of fancy craft beer that made Evan burst out laughing the moment he saw it, though Wallace never figured out why.
They clearly had a long history together. Inside jokes.
He knew he was an outsider, but he’d never before wanted to fit in so much.
They all sat down, passing things until their plates were full.
Quincy, Wallace noticed, made himself a tiny plate with an artistically-placed micro-serving of each dish, which he proceeded to hold up to his nose and smell periodically throughout the meal.
The way he tilted the plate and moved a few objects around behind it to get a better angle suggested that he was taking photographs as well, and possibly posting them online.
It was adorable.
A spark who loved to cook, but didn’t eat any of his own food.
Wallace complimented the chef—which everyone seemed to agree was Quincy, though it was the chefbot in Oliver’s kitchen that had executed most of the preparation—because the food was astounding.
Definitely restaurant quality, which made sense when Quincy explained that he worked in a cafe…
while going to school to become a therapist…
and hosting a video series of makeup tips for masculine-assigned beings, which was where his real income was coming from.
Quincy, for all of his airhead qualities, was damned talented, and Wallace was going to watch every single one of his videos now that he knew.
Evan, on the other hand, was mostly quiet, content to bask in Quincy’s light. He spoke up here or there, gently teasing Ben, but most of the words out of his mouth were affirmation.
Ben, of course, was an ass.
But… kind of a charming one, now that Wallace could see him in his element, around people he cared for. He teased, but it was never truly mean. It was only when he got compliments that he got prickly and defensive.
And wasn’t that just fascinating.
Wallace somehow found himself talking more than he expected. About quitting his job. About his asshole father. Not any details, but enough that the crew started chiming in with ideas for his new career.
Helping him. Supporting him.
Some of the ideas were terrible, jobs he wouldn’t touch in a million years. And some of them seemed plausible. The world was so big when he wasn’t trapped under his father’s thumb, his whole life planned out to inherit a company that his father never really wanted him to run.
What he was most touched by, though, was Oliver’s casual offer. “You could come work with us, if you want to keep working in robotics. We consult with tons of people. Let me know if you’re interested.”
Ben had shrugged, which Wallace was learning was Ben-speak for agreement when feelings were involved.
Wallace surprised himself by actually considering it. Now that he knew Ben and Oliver better, he could see himself working with them. They would tease each other, and probably do fascinating projects, and if Wallace didn’t have to be Ben’s manager… he could see it kind of working.
“Would you…” He wasn’t sure if he should bring it up.
But Ben was already pinning him with his gaze, suddenly alert, like a puppy with its ears perked up. “Would we what?”
Wallace sighed. “It’s dumb. You don’t have the infrastructure for it.”
“What’s dumb?” Ben pressed. “Because we can outsource a hell of a lot.”
Wallace wanted to shrink back. But what did he have to lose? “I was just thinking about the nursebot project. I was never really able to get it off the ground at Orbit, but…”
“Is this a specific nursebot project?” Oliver asked. “I know Orbit had a whole line of them.”
Wallace couldn’t help but get a little excited.
“This one was a little different. It was… my pet project, I guess. I wanted to design a humanoid nursebot cheap enough that we could make it affordable to public schools and community centers in low-income communities. The goal was to strip down features to just focus on the basics. It would be kind of like a MedBed, able to monitor vital signs and dispense medication, but friendlier and mobile to interact with children. Orbit has high-end models that do this, but I wanted a cheap, sturdy one that could go into mass production. Axis Robotics has something similar, but it’s still too expensive. ”
“Oh, Wallace! That’s so cool!” Quincy was bouncing in his seat. “You should definitely do that!”
Wallace gave a wry smile. “I’ve been trying to get it off the ground at Orbit for the past five years.”
“Shit, dude.” Ben looked him over. “I had no idea. You could have told me.”
Wallace raised one eyebrow. They’d hated each other, or at least he thought they had. “It wasn’t a very glamorous project,” he managed, hoping that he didn’t sound too bitter. “Not a lot of fancy engineering work, just cost management.”
“It’s not glamorous,” Oliver agreed, smoothing things over, “but it’s important work. And maximizing efficiencies for a low-cost product is still an engaging task. I think if you wanted to collaborate with us on something like this, it could be a great addition to our portfolio.”
“Yeah,” Ben agreed. “Get those kiddies their nurses!”
Wallace blinked, willing his tears away. How was it that these guys, the ones he’d always thought were his enemies, could be so kind? So supportive?
Even if he didn’t agree to work with them, the simple offer meant more than he could say.
Oliver and Ben weren’t joking when they said that they wanted him around.
“Can I think about it?” he asked, voice wavering.
“Of course,” Oliver told him.
Ben gave him a look like he was an idiot, which he was starting to be able to interpret. Ben didn’t think that he, Wallace, was an idiot. He was trying to say, in his own weird Ben way, that it was okay for Wallace to think about it.
Oliver, seeming to realize Wallace’s emotional overload, deftly pivoted the conversation. “Hey, Quincy, I saw your new video last night!”
Quincy was more than happy to fill everyone in on the new makeup techniques from his most recent video. And how cool was that?
Wallace settled back and just listened, helping himself to more of the mouth-watering chowder.
He could… he could really find himself fitting in here. With Volt sitting next to him, squeezing his hand or touching his shoulder, like Evan and Quincy so often did with each other.
God, he wished Volt were with him right now. Worry gripped him for a moment, but he felt blanketed by the people around him. Volt was just down the hall. He would be okay.
Ben, of course, didn’t have anyone beside him, but Wallace saw the fond glances he sometimes snuck at the camera propped up at the middle of the table where a centerpiece would normally go.
These could be his people.
He could have friends.
Friends who, as Oliver had pointed out to him so long ago, were like him. Queer and gender-variant and kinky, all in human-spark relationships.